


The Man In The Lake

by Akumeoi



Series: All Covered In Gold [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (nothing is graphic), Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mutual Pining, Resistance, Wartime Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Akumeoi
Summary: Prompto Argentum, wartime photographer for the Lucian resistance, looks back on his photos from the war and remembers a romantic encounter he had with a mysterious and beautiful man. If only there were a way to see him again...





	The Man In The Lake

The canned sounds of the royal orchestra blared from the TV as Prompto sat on the couch, going through old photos on his laptop. He was just killing time, waiting for the king to make a live address - the first he would give on film rather than radio since the war had ended one month ago. The photos were a nostalgia trip, but in fact, he was doing this because some government body in Insomnia had requested an archive of his work in a flattering letter that called him “the most talented photographer the Lucian wartime resistance could have ever hoped for.” Well, they would say that - he was not only technically skilled and creative, but his Niflheimian origins and appearance had allowed him to freely wander into any occupied location he wanted, or even to sneak onto army bases. The photos he had taken in places like that had provided the Resistance with all kinds of information necessary for reclaiming Lucis.

Just now he had stumbled across his photos of Lepelleth, the small town situated between the Keycatrich Trench and Formouth Garrison. An important tactical point for multiple reasons. The town had been composed almost entirely of the families of Niflheim immigrants and soldiers, save for just a small handful of Lucians. A dangerous town. Prompto did not have good memories of it. 

But there was one photo from this time that, truth be told, he was itching to see. There was nothing really special about it - it was just a simple selfie, with dappled summer lighting and a waterfall in the background. 

A churning white waterfall…

_Prompto’s cover in Lepelleth was his usual one, that of a wildlife photographer for Meteor Publishing. He had gone into the woods outside the town to get a few shots of boring animals as proof, when he accidentally stumbled upon a hidden cave._

_At first, Prompto thought it might be connected to the Keycatrich Trench. Whatever it was, it was clearly of interest to the resistance if it could be used to hide men and supplies so close to enemy territory. But the cave was just a short passage which led to a hidden valley, forested with trees and surrounded by cliffs. At the far end was a massive, gushing waterfall, which fed into a lake. The roar of the water was so loud that Prompto was surprised it couldn’t be heard from the other side of the cave._

_It was then that he took the selfie, little knowing what it would mean for him in the months and years to come._

_The place had a peaceful energy he instantly associated with the presence of a nearby haven, though it was hidden from view. Knowing it would be safe because of the haven’s magic, Prompto set up his tent, intending to spend the night there. After that, he made his way to the waterfall to investigate some more and maybe get a few photos. As he approached the edge of the trees, he saw, to his shock, that a man was standing thigh-deep in the waters of the lake._

_The man looked to be about Prompto’s age, with shoulder-length dark hair made darker by the water which already saturated it. He was slim, but stockier than Prompto with his runner’s thin build - and he was completely naked. Rivulets of water ran over his body as he bent to wash in the lake. Prompto was transfixed at the sight of him, breath caught up in his throat._

_Then, as the man dipped his head underwater and emerged from the lake again, he caught sight of Prompto and their eyes locked. They were only looking at each other for a moment, but that moment was burned into his memory. The sun on the lake, sparkling. The thunderous roar and rush of white water as the waterfall churned. And the captivating gaze of the man in the lake, who glowed bright in the summer sun, ethereal and noble._

_Immediately, Prompto felt as though he had made a big mistake, that he was somehow trespassing on this man’s sacred ground. Before he could call out or apologise, the man had taken a deep breath, ducked into the lake, and completely disappeared from view. Concerned, Prompto ran to the edge of the water, but he could see no trace of the man, nor of where he might have gone, though he waited for half an hour to see if the man would re-emerge._

_Feeling unaccountably guilty, Prompto gave the valley a cursory exploration, spending the entire time worrying about that strange man and hoping he was alive and hiding rather than drowned._

_That night, Prompto awoke to the cold press of a blade against his throat and a low voice in his ear, demanding an explanation for his presence in the valley. Though he should have been afraid, his heart leapt at the realisation that the man from the lake was safe. Prompto said one of the resistance’s secret code phrases, and the man responded in kind._

_Prompto gave his fake name: Mercury, and learnt the stranger’s: Gar. Gar did indeed live in the valley. He could not leave because he saw no way to get past Lepelleth and Formouth Garrison without being captured. From the way he vanished his sword into thin air, Prompto guessed that he was some sort of ex-Kingsglaive._

_They spent the night together. That, too, was burned into Prompto’s mind. It had been Gar’s first time. He had been shy but determined, eager and even reckless. Prompto had tried to make it good for him. Lips and hands and heart._

Remembering all of this, Prompto smiled. To his surprise, there were tears in his eyes as he scrolled through his photos. When he brushed them away, his vision cleared and there it was: the selfie.

Green valley, white waterfall, and Prompto’s grinning face. He still had dreams about that day. 

_It was the first time he had seen Gar, but they had met only once more. After leaving the secret valley, Prompto had gotten into contact with the only resistance agent in Lepelleth, a bespectacled, colourless Tenebrean man with the code name Infernus. He met with Gar once every three months to bring him food, supplies, and news. Together, Prompto and Infernus had hatched a risky plan to get Gar out of his waterfall prison. The plan had gone great - for Gar and the Tenebrean. As for Prompto, he had been captured and taken to Formouth Garrison. The memories from that time were all tinged red with desperation and the distant echoes of pain._

Prompto was snapped from his darkening reverie by a change in the audio coming from the TV screen. Some kind of drumroll, and when Prompto looked up he saw the king approaching the podium that had been prepared on the steps of the Citadel. There was a moment of silence as everyone present bowed. 

The camera zoomed in on his face, and Prompto forgot how to breathe. 

It was _him_ — the man in the lake. The _king_. Gar. No… _Noctis._

Prompto’s hands were shaking so hard that he had to slide the laptop from his lap and onto the sofa beside him before he dropped it on the floor. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from King Noctis’s face. The words he was actually saying were drowned out by the roar of a waterfall. 

What should he do? Should he - get up and go to the Citadel? Noctis was there now. If he went, if he went… it would take him hours to cross the country, and by then the speech would be over. Prompto could send a letter. No, a photo, a photo of his face so Noctis would remember who he was. The selfie by the waterfall, of course! 

Jumping to his feet, Prompto crossed the room to see if the printer had photo paper - of course it did. He ran back to get his laptop, and then something that the king was saying actually managed to permeate his consciousness. 

“And lastly, I want to thank Mercury, a man I met only twice, but without whom a Lucian victory would never have been possible. He sacrificed himself so that I could rejoin the fight for Lucis at a time when we had very little hope. Not a day goes by when I don’t remember him and think of everything he gave me. I believe he is a true symbol of the Lucian spirit. I don’t know where he is now, or even if he’s still alive. But to Mercury, if you’re watching this speech - and to all the people of Lucis who joined the resistance and lit the fires of victory with their courage and their resolution - thank you, my brothers.”

As he spoke, Noctis’s face was soft, intense. Looking at him, listening to him speak, Prompto was torn between laughing, crying, and putting his arms around the TV screen to hug him. Now that he knew Noctis was the king, Prompto had no idea what kind of relationship they could have in the future. 

But he couldn’t wait to see the look on Noctis’s face when he realised that Prompto had not, in fact, been tortured to death in the confines of Formouth Garrison. He wanted to know how Noctis was doing now and if he was happy, to hear everything that had happened to him since the time they had last seen each other. He wanted to know how Noctis thought of him when he thought of him privately, if he remembered those fleeting moments of pleasure they had shared, if they had meant as much to Noctis as they had to him. 

_Screw sending a selfie_ , Prompto decided. He was going to walk into the Citadel, give them his photo archive, then drop the waterfall selfie directly on Noctis’s desk. 

And then he would say: “Tell me… were you worried about me?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Promptis week 2018 day 3: Mutual pining.  
> Infernus is Ignis, of course.
> 
> Thanks to Shakyhades for help with the pacing!
> 
> Comments always welcome.


End file.
